


i won't say

by evanescent



Category: Batman (Comics), DCU (Comics), Green Lantern (Comics)
Genre: (except when they are), (yes the title also), Disney References, Established Relationship, M/M, a tiny bit of angst a dash of fluff and straight up shenanigans, contrary to what jason thinks his family are not assholes, mentioned donnakory, somewhat rebirth inspired timeline
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-02
Updated: 2018-11-02
Packaged: 2019-08-16 18:37:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,349
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16500617
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/evanescent/pseuds/evanescent
Summary: “Master Rayner.”Still nonplussed, Kyle sits up on the floor and clears his throat. “Good morning,” he greets tentatively.Alfred nods and says, “You’re welcome to join breakfast; it’s only just started. If you’d be so kind to get Master Jason downstairs, he still shouldn’t be putting pressure on his ankle.”“Sure,” he agrees because well, what else can he say? When Alfred leaves the room, Kyle groans excessively and hits his forehead on the mattress a few times for good measure. “Can I scramble my brain to get rid of embarrassment?”“No, you will have to live with it,” Jason answers cheerfully....Kyle wanted to spend a romantic evening with Jason, but instead, he ends up having breakfast with his family.Surprisingly, it's not completely a disaster.





	i won't say

**Author's Note:**

> hey, y'all. it's my 50th posted fic on here in the five years i've had this account. oh, how the time flies. thank you for sticking around!
> 
> this was sorta a scene/an idea that didn't make it into one of my old jaykyle fics, so it became a story on its own. it's really silly, actually. (i swear, i have some stuff with plot in my wips.) still, hope you enjoy

When Kyle began this little venture tonight, he was humming Disney songs; now he’s checking the fourth of Jason’s safehouses, too irritated to have even Phil Collins stuck in his head.

Granted, coming back to Earth sooner than expected and deciding to surprise Jason sounded nice in theory, but the execution frankly _sucked_. Kyle was pretty good at getting around Jason’s security, but at the third safehouse he slipped up and went to duck a blade that came out of the window frame, and ended up hitting his head on a railing of a fire escape. Since then, his romantic inclinations have dwindled, prompting him to take a practical look on the situation; Jason was probably already on patrol or maybe even some mission.

Finally giving up on the element of surprise — and maybe that’s for the better; Jason isn’t all that fond of surprises, since he usually assumes them to be threats that should be greeted with a gun — Kyle decides to call. He doesn’t wait long.

“Kyle?” Jason’s voice is quiet, a little surprised. “I didn’t expect to hear from you just yet.”

“For once, we wrapped up the diplomatic stuff on Zamaron earlier than planned,” Kyle explains, getting out the same way he came in and flying higher up in the air. “Are you in Gotham? I dropped by some of your places, but with no luck.”

“Ah, well,” Jason says, clearing his throat. Kyle is starting to grow suspicious. “I’m at the Manor, actually.”

That gives Kyle a pause; Jason staying the night there is not out of the realm of possibility, but it _is_ unusual. “Oh. I can come by?” It comes out like a question and Kyle doesn’t know why he’s nervous. “If you want.”

Jason is silent for a moment, but when he speaks, it’s sincere. “Sure. I’d like that very much.” Some of Kyle’s worry eases. “East wing, first floor, fourth window from the garden. You got that?”

“Pretty sure I did,” he answers, already on his way out of city. “I mean, what’s the worst thing that can happen? I accidentally activated one of your traps tonight and almost got beheaded.”

“You wield one of the most powerful weapons in the universe, I’m pretty sure you’d have been fine,” Jason dismisses flatly, ignoring the underlying suggestion of easing a little on the traps. “And to answer your question, you could end up barging into Cass’ room and get your ass kicked thoroughly.”

Kyle mulls over it for a second. “If I’m not sure, I’ll call.”

At that, Jason snorts. “I will leave the light on for you.”

…

Kyle is pretty sure there are many people in Gotham who dreamed about sneaking into the grounds of the Wayne Manor for a secret date with one of Bruce Wayne’s kids (or even the man himself, but Kyle is not going _there_ ), although he thinks the thrill wears off a little when you have a power ring and simply fly high over the gates. Still, as he makes his way to the dimly lit window in the east wing, he does feel a bit like a reckless, love-struck teenager. Maybe it isn’t such a bad thing.

“Tone the glow a little, would you? I don’t really want you drawing a swarm of moths here,” Jason calls as Kyle enters through the window opened wide, the curtains flapping around him. The night is warm, with just the right wind speed to get the balance right.

“I’m happy to see you, too,” Kyle says flatly, but does as asked; he gets rid of the mask, but doesn’t take off the ring yet. He takes a few steps towards the bed and just then realizes his hunch was right. “You’re hurt.”

He can see Jason twitch slightly. “Gee, what gave it away?” he deadpans. Kyle raises one eyebrow and waits. Jason bites his lip and sighs. “It’s not that bad,” he hedges instead.

Kyle sits down at the edge of the bed, assessing Jason’s state. His left ankle is in a cast, there’s a patch on his neck and Kyle can see bandages from where the collar of his loose t-shirt hangs low, suggesting bruised or fractured ribs. Jason’s face is sporting some greenish and yellow bruises, meaning they’re a few days old.

“What happened?” Kyle asks, knowing he’s not going to like the answer.

“The usual,” Jason says. “Four nights ago, we went to shut down a human trafficking ring we’ve been working on dismantling recently. They were trying to hightail out of Gotham on a ship with what they had left of money and people they kidnapped.” Jason’s mouth twists. “Long story short, my helmet got busted, so of course that meant I got grazed,” he points to his neck, “so _of course_ that ended up with getting my ankle fucked up. And since it was a ‘family operation’,” he makes air quotes, “I was dragged here against my will and my attempts to escape keep being foiled. You couldn’t have come at a more suiting time,” he finishes dramatically.

“Ah, so I’m supposed to be your way out?” Kyle asks, an amused smile dancing on his lips, but he sobers up quickly. “They worry, you know that,” he says then, ignoring Jason muttering, _They smother, more likely_ , and reaches out to touch Jason’s neck, fingertips light over the bandage. He can feel Jason’s breath hitch, but doesn’t think it’s from the pain. “I do, too,” he adds, moving his hand to cup the side of Jason’s face.

Risk and danger are part of the lives they lead; Kyle is well-aware of the fact that he can get back to Earth and not find Jason safe and sound, just like he himself may not come back from the depths of space one day. Still, it doesn’t make the close calls easier. Sometime over the course of last months, Jason has become a person that comes to the forefront of Kyle’s mind when he finds himself in a peril and wonders if this is where his luck finally runs out.

So, in a predictable turn of events, Kyle is pretty attached to this thing he has with Jason. And in a way that seems surprising at first glance, but actually isn’t, Jason is, too. He can tell that much.

The tightly held posture sags, defensiveness and playing it up bleeding out of Jason. He moves in closer, leans his forehead on Kyle’s. “Sorry,” he mutters, carding his fingers through Kyle’s hair and linking his hand at the back of Kyle’s neck. “Welcome back.”

Jason’s mouth vaguely tastes bitter, as if of medicine, but Kyle doesn’t mind. He absent-mindedly lets his hand slip down, running his thumb over Jason’s hip bone through the fabric of his sweatpants. He gets something between a laugh and a groan in response and smiles into the kiss.

“Stay?” Jason asks when they part.

“Of course,” Kyle hums, already taking off his ring and putting it on Jason’s bedside table. The bed is big and he can easily fit behind Jason..

“No funny business, though,” Jason mumbles as Kyle pulls some covers over them. “Alfred will be pissed if you ruin my bedrest.”

“Well, we can’t have that,” Kyle agrees, eyes already falling closed; he didn’t realize he was this tired. The plans for a romantic evening he had didn’t work out, but as he sneaks his arms around Jason, mindful of his ribs, he decides this is nice, too. “Let’s sleep.”

“Yeah.” A few beats later, and, “Kyle?”

“Hm?”

“Have you…” Jason sounds amused. “Have you actually been humming ‘Can You Feel the Love Tonight’?”

“...maybe.”

…

Kyle drifts awake slowly; his first half-coherent thought is the realization that Jason’s hair is tickling his chin and nose and it makes him smile a little. He feels rather well-rested — this is such a comfortable bed and sheets are of the highest quality; he hasn’t had a chance to sleep in such luxurious conditions in a long time

At this point, he hears a soft, strange noise, and pries his eyes open, glancing up. His mind, still half-awake, takes a moment to catch up with his eyes and when Kyle realizes what he’s seeing — a pristine-dressed older man standing by the bed — he does what every regular person would do: he freaks out.

In his case, it means he ends up half-rolling, half-falling off the bed.

“What’s the ruckus?” Jason’s voice is thick with sleep and vaguely confused.

“Seems I was the reason for such a sudden startle,” Alfred Pennyworth says. “I apologize.”

Kyle lifts his hand in a vague ‘nevermind’ gesture, feeling mortified. Somewhere at the back of his mind, Guy is having the laugh of his life.

Jason, on the other hand, sounds completely unperturbed and unashamed as he greets the man. “Hiya, Alfie.” He seems to stifle a yawn. “What time is it?”

“Just after eleven,” the butler replies. “You haven’t really slept in ever since you began your stay here, so I decided to check up on you.”

Jason hums. “Had a good night of sleep, ‘s all.”

“It would seem so,” Alfred replies. Kyle still is doing his best to become one with the carpet and, unfortunately, failing. “Let me check up on your stitches and ankle, sir.”

Alfred deems Jason’s convalescence to move at a satisfying pace and without any complications. “I believe it’d do you good to leave the room on conditions different than trying to make your escape,” he announces. Ignoring Jason’s whining, he addresses Kyle. “Master Rayner.”

Still nonplussed, Kyle sits up on the floor and clears his throat. “Good morning,” he greets tentatively.

Alfred nods and says, “You’re welcome to join breakfast; it’s only just started. If you’d be so kind to get Master Jason downstairs, he still shouldn’t be putting pressure on his ankle.”

“Sure,” he agrees because well, what else can he say? When Alfred leaves the room, Kyle groans excessively and hits his forehead on the mattress a few times for good measure. “Can I scramble my brain to get rid of embarrassment?”

“No, you will have to live with it,” Jason answers cheerfully. “Besides, you’re actually in the clear, Alfred knew about us anyway.”

That makes Kyle look up. “Really? You told your butler slash grandfather figure?”

“Better than anybody else in this damn family.” Jason shrugs. It seems he made his peace with being forced to get out of the room as he sits on the bed, holding out a hand to Kyle. “Last night they were going to nail the last players in the trafficking ring that got away before and Bruce’s been pushing his ‘no sleep, only justice’ agenda, so chances are he’s not even gonna be at breakfast. Or he will, but he won’t notice the additional mop of black hair at the table.”

Privately, Kyle thinks it’d be the man’s own fault for taking in so many black-haired kids. He takes Jason’s hand and a short while later, they make their way out. They even manage to remain undisturbed until they reach the staircase and meet up with a boy Kyle doesn’t know.

“So, Alfred finally put his foot down about giving you breakfast to bed?” he asks, cocking an eyebrow.

Jason rolls his eyes. “Something like that.” He gestures between them. “Duke, Kyle. Kyle, Duke.”

Kyle regards the boy for a moment longer and guesses, “Signal?”

“Yeah, that’s me,” Duke confirms. He gives Kyle the once-over, too. “I’m pretty sure you’re a Lantern? Of some color?” He sounds uncertain, though. Kyle laughs.

“White Lantern, yes,” he answers.

Duke looks between them for a moment longer and shrugs. “You know what, I’m gonna assume it’s one of those things that just _happen_ around here. I’ve already made my peace with the fact that Superman seems to drop by for breakfast at regular intervals.”

“He loves Alfred’s chocolate chip pancakes,” Jason explains.

“Duh, _who_ doesn’t?” Duke asks. He puts his hand on the handrail. “You’re gonna be okay getting down by yourselves?”

Jason nods. “Yeah, go on ahead.”

Kyle could make a construct of literally _anything_ and get Jason down in it, but he decides against drawing unnecessary attention to them. Besides, he rather likes the fact they’re keeping this close; it feels natural, yet still remains somewhat a novelty. Once they make it downstairs, Jason directs him to reach the dining room. The table is already pretty busy; they sit down next to Duke, at the other side, Damian, Cassandra and Tim are eating, and at the head of it, sits Bruce, apparently reading a newspaper.

Upon seeing Kyle, Damian seems about to say something, but Jason makes a zipping motion across his mouth. His younger brother scowls in response, but doesn’t make any snide comment. Cassandra tilts her head to the side and gives Kyle a pleased smile, and he relaxes at that. Tim is sipping his coffee, blissfully unaware of the world.

“Which one is he on?” Jason asks. Cassandra holds up one finger. He snorts. “Well, it’s gonna be a while before Tim joins us here on a plane of existence other than physical.”

Kyle helps himself to French toasts and waffles; since he’s here, he may as well live a little — he hasn’t really eaten anything substantial ever since he came back to Earth.

Between the bites of his own food, Jason asks, “So, did everything go alright last night?”

“No conversations of the kind upstairs,” Alfred reminds sternly as he materializes by the table to refill the coffee pot, almost giving Kyle a heart attack again.

Damian sniffs. “Everything ended on a satisfactory note. Do not add to your injury by troubling yourself with thinking, Todd.”

Jason grins at that. “Aw, so you _do_ care, tater-tot.”

Damian’s brown skin reddens around his cheeks. He seems embarrassed. “Fight me,” he exclaims, picking up a butter knife.

“No fighting before noon and no fighting at the table,” Bruce says, voice firm but exhausted all the same. Kyle is pretty sure he hasn’t actually flipped a page in the paper in all the time they’ve been here and he’s come to a conclusion that the man is just using it as a way to detach himself from his children’s antics.

“You know the rules, short stuff,” Jason sign-songs as Damian drops down the knife, fuming. “Also, no fighting a person who is already injured.”

At that, Bruce lowers the paper slightly and Kyle is reminded of the times he used to be a part of the JLA; the cowl really did a lot to mask exhaustion in those days. Bruce says, in the general vicinity of Jason, “I’m glad you feel better and joined us for breakfast.”

Jason looks like he isn’t sure if he should be offended or warmed by the sentiment, but before he says anything that could be considered an invitation to an argument, a voice calls, “Morning!” and Dick Grayson enters the room. His hair seems like it hasn’t seen a brush in a while, he’s sporting a cut above his right brow and his t-shirt says, _Suck my Richard_ , which Kyle knows for a fact was a present from Jason.

He thinks he sees Bruce’s jaw twitch minutely before the man shields himself behind the newspaper again.

“I thought you came back to your place last night,” Duke notices, drinking orange juice.

“I was going to, but I have to go back to Titans today, so I decided to get as much quality sleep as I could,” Dick replies, sitting down and already reaching for what remains of a stack of pancakes.

“Also, food,” Cassandra states knowingly, making her older brother laugh.

“That goes without saying,” he agrees. “Kyle, could you pass me the syrup?”

The shift in the atmosphere at the table is almost palpable; from the corner of his eye, Kyle can see Duke, Damian and Cassandra lean in with interest, just as he can pretty much _feel_ metaphorical thunders rolling out of Jason’s eyes. Bruce doesn’t react at all.

 _Ah, whatever_ , he decides. He passes Dick the syrup and asks, “How’s Donna?”

“Good, she’s been thinking about taking up photography professionally again,” Dick answers without missing a beat. Kyle is pleased to hear that; Donna loved taking photos and she had a really good eye for that. Dick dumps a considerable amount of the bottle’s contents on his plate. “She and Kory moved in together. Also again, when you think back.”

“Well, they’re good friends,” Kyle states, not sure what else to make of that.

“Wait, I didn’t realize you were _that_ behind on news,” Jason says, laughing, just as Dick snorts and comments, “Yeah, the same way you and Jay are.”

Kyle actually chokes on a piece of his toast.and for the second time this morning vividly wishes he was someplace else. Next to him, Jason goes perfectly still.

Apparently seeing this as invitation — or, an opportunity — Dick goes on, “Aw, come on, guys, I’ve known for a while.” He shoves the fork in to his mouth, chews and swallows. “I know you were like, making a big secret out of it, but it was kinda really obvious? It’s nice you asked Kyle to come over for breakfast to break the news to us, though.”

“I didn’t —” Jason sighs and actually pinches the bridge of his nose. “So, someone else wanna admit they knew, too?”

Damian, Cassandra and Tim all raise their hands, albeit the latest does so with visible delay.

“To be fair, I only met the guy today,” Duke says, at this point sounding both worn out and amused. “And it’s not really my business, I guess?”

“That’s why you’re my favorite,” Jason replies, a dramatic hand over his eyes.

Kyle regards Tim, somewhat unconvinced. “You sure you knew?”

Tim ponders the question for a moment. “What are we raising our hands for, again?”

“If we knew Jason is dating Kyle,” Cassandra explains.

“Ah, that.” Tim seems less interested now. “Since the party at the Titans Tower? Bart saw you guys leave together and you know how much he loves running his mouth.”

“I _despise_ all of you by association,” Jason announces solemnly just as Dick breaks out in giggles, which seems to be a bit of a strange reaction.

“Oh God, hang on,” he exclaims between the laughs, barely catching a breath, “ _Bruce didn’t know_.”

At that, they all turn their heads to look at him, paper dropped at the table, his face out to see.

“Man, you look as if you swallowed a whole lemon,” Duke sums up it first and best, Kyle thinks.

“Father,” Damian only says and this one word carries an impressive amount of disappointment.

Cassandra actually reaches out to pat Bruce’s clenched hand consolingly. “It’s okay.”

That seems to break Bruce out of his shocked daze. He gets up, unfinished coffee and all, and states, “I have to. Work.” He glances at him and Jason briefly, and adds, “If you’re happy, that’s... good.” After that, he actually leaves in stunned silence.

When the door behind him shuts, Tim blinks twice. “He’s really going through it, huh.”

“I actually think it went better than…. what I never planned or expected,” Jason wonders out loud, glancing at Kyle. Kyle just smiles and shrugs; everything about this was a little more than a trainwreck and what he bargained for, but it wasn’t _terrible_. Despite being dramatic, he knows Jason is glad to come clean with his family, too.

“Master Bruce will be fine in due time,” Alfred states, coming from the door leading to the kitchen, apparently about to start cleaning after the meal. “Will you be staying for dinner, Master Rayner?” the man asks.

Before he can answer, Cassandra hums, “Would you like to stay forever?”

The table erupts in giggles and snickers. Jason shakes his shoulder, face pinched, such a reminiscent of Bruce’s expression from just moments ago. “I can’t do this, it’s only gonna get worse from here on. We’re leaving.” That only makes Kyle laugh harder. “Kyle, work with me here. Kyle. _Kyle_.”

**Author's Note:**

> has someone ever drawn dick in the "suck my richard" t-shirt? if not, _please do_
> 
> thanks for reading! hmu twitter @ jaydonnakyle


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